


Better With You

by Akranes



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Bad Boy Min Yoongi | Suga, Belly Kink, Body Image, Body Worship, Chubby Kink, Chubby Park Jimin (BTS), Fluff, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda, M/M, Mutual Pining, Underage Drinking, Weight Gain, Weight Gain Kink, Weight Issues, and he's very soft for Jimin, he's not that bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:46:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24494485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akranes/pseuds/Akranes
Summary: For his art history final, Jimin gets paired with the aloof, stupidly hot guy he's been staring at all semester.Yoongi gets paired with the cute, chubby junior who's caught his eye a few times, and finds his heart stolen before he even realizes what's happened.
Relationships: Min Yoongi | Suga/Park Jimin
Comments: 24
Kudos: 239





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kafka_shore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kafka_shore/gifts).



> This was a commission for my wonderful and effervescent fellow BTS fanfic writer [ kafka_shore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kafka_shore/pseuds/kafka_shore)! I feel so blessed as always to be taking commissions, so ty again lovely <3
> 
> I'm also just realizing I haven't posted since covid! I am here and thankfully well. And, despite not posting, I've been doing a lot of writing, so expect more from me hopefully soon (across several different fandoms because I am who I am lol)!
> 
> Unbeta'd, please forgive grammar/spelling mistakes~
> 
> Check the tags, y'all! **Chubby/weight gain kink impending.** There's also talk of dieting and body image, so pls know your limits <3

Even though Jimin is literally _waiting_ for Yoongi, his heart still leaps into his throat when he finally sees him walk into the library.

He watches Yoongi do a slow scan of the room before his eyes settle on Jimin, tucked into a corner of the computer lab. Jimin tries his best not to hunch, knowing the way it pushes his belly into his lap and knowing how unflattering that looks. He tries for a polite smile instead, but Yoongi’s face doesn’t really show any recognition, and he just walks Jimin’s way and then slips into the chair beside him with the long-legged grace of a model.

Long-legged might not be the right descriptor since Yoongi’s not exactly tall, but there’s just something about his appearance and attitude that makes Jimin think ‘model’.

Maybe it’s the careless set of his shoulders or jut of his chin. The way his eyes are lazy and sharp all at once. The shagginess of his hair, or maybe the way it’s been bleached, then dyed a mid-toned gray (Jimin’s surprised it qualifies as a ‘natural’ hair color to fit into their dress code, but if someone were to find a loophole, it would be Min Yoongi).

“Sorry you got paired up with me,” Yoongi says, sounding decidedly _not_ sorry as he crosses his arms behind his head, “I’m not smart like you are.”

Jimin barks a laugh, too loud and awkward and now if he were internally cringing any harder, he’s pretty sure he’d collapse into a black hole.

“You’re- it’s fine,” Jimin says hurriedly. “I don’t mind doing most of the work.”

Jimin’s eyes dart back and forth from Yoongi to his computer screen, not quite having the nerve to maintain eye contact.

But Yoongi’s watching him now, and his brows furrow, “That’s not what I meant.” But something makes the corners of his lips quirk as he continues, “You shouldn’t say that anyways, don’t let people take advantage of you, Jimin.”

“Uh- er, right,” Jimin says, laughing a little again, feeling his face flame against his will just hearing Yoongi say his name.

They had gotten paired together for an art history paper. It’s an elective, so there’s all ages in their class. Jimin guesses he just got lucky to have been paired with Yoongi, a senior where Jimin was a junior.

Not to mention Jimin has been crushing on Yoongi _all semester_.

“Well,” Jimin says, eager for a change in topic and reaching into his backpack for his notebook, “Did you have any ideas on who to do?” For the project, they have to pick an artist and some of their works to do a critique and analysis.

Yoongi hums, “Well, you’re a musician, too, right?”

“Um, yeah sort of, I sing,” Jimin says, feeling profoundly proud that Yoongi even knows that precious little about him.

Yoongi nods, looking satisfied, “I play piano, and I like to write music and lyrics. Have you heard of Akira Ifukube?”

“Of course,” Jimin says, feeling himself smile, “Everyone talks about _Godzilla_ , but _Rapsodia Concertante_ is iconic.”

Yoongi gives a true grin then, and Jimin feels himself get nervous all over again.

“Cool,” he says, “I think most people will do painters and shit, so ours will be unique.”

“Definitely,” Jimin eagerly agrees. He shifts towards the computer desk, trying not to blush when he pulls himself a bit too close and the crest of his tummy bumps firmly into the edge.

He’s been noticing more of that lately, the bump of his stomach getting in the way. He put on a bit of winter weight this past season that has settled right in his belly, and it definitely rounds out more than it used to.

Yoongi doesn’t seem to notice, not even glancing down, just casually moving closer and watching Jimin’s screen as he opens up a new word document.

_

“My heart really can’t take spending much more time with him,” Jimin complains, hunching in his lunch room chair.

Jungkook casts him a sympathetic look and Taehyung frowns.

“It sounds like you’re becoming friends to me,” Taehyung points out, “That can’t be a bad thing.”

“I don’t want to be _friends_ with him. It’s even worse actually _knowing_ him now, instead of just thinking he’s cute.”

“Maybe he thinks you’re cute, too,” Jungkook suggests easily, and Jimin snorts. Taehyung gives his chubby cheek a pinch and Jimin yelps.

“You’re _very_ cute, Jimin. And, he’s definitely bi. He dated that guy from the baseball team last year. So you have a shot,” Taehyung stubbornly insists.

Jimin just shakes his head ruefully, “I don’t think so. He wouldn’t-“ Jimin hesitates, “it just doesn’t seem like that.” Jimin stops himself from saying what he really thinks. _He wouldn’t want me like that._

Jimin doesn’t think he’s _ugly_ , but he’s certainly...pretty chubby. He’s always been a bit heavy. Always prone to eating too many sweets and lounging on the couch for a little too long. And he _always_ puts on some weight during the winter, and he always fails to lose it. It’s the end of April now, so it’s well past the ideal time to try and lose it, _if_ he was going to try at all. He still entertains the idea of it, but he hasn’t decided if it’s worth the effort yet, or the inevitable disappointment.

If he doesn’t diet, he’ll probably have to invest in new pants. The ones he has on are definitely too tight, pinching his hips and making his tummy look embarrassingly round. He’d tried to complement the look with his biggest sweater, and it helped, mostly, but even that snagged on the crest of his belly.

Jungkook and Taehyung seem more or less content to move on, though, and have started talking about the new kid in their English class.

Jimin’s phone buzzes. He slips it out, and sees it’s a text from Yoongi. Yoongi had proposed they exchange numbers the first day they worked together, to Jimin’s shock. He had shrugged and said it would naturally be easier to get a hold of each other that way. Taehyung and Jungkook had revelled in that information, even though Jimin insisted it wasn’t what it sounded like. Because it _wasn’t_. 

His heart still skips as he unlocks his phone, huffing a little laugh as he sees the meme he’s been sent. 

They’ve only been working together for a little over a week. The paper’s technically their final for the class, so it’s not due for a month still, but they decided that they’re going to start it early so they can take their time with it. Be thorough, do a good job. Yoongi keeps joking that Jimin’s lucky he’s interested in the topic, and that this is the most effort he’s put into a project since freshman year. At least, Jimin thinks he’s joking. It’s kind of hard to tell when Yoongi says it so seriously.

Jimin’s perfectly happy to take the project slow. Even though he says he doesn’t want to spend more time with Yoongi, he knows it’s not entirely true. He says that because he knows that would be best, so he doesn’t get more attached, and therefore hurt, later.

It’s so fun though, going through all the compositions and scores with Yoongi, listening to them and discussing them afterwards, speculating the emotions and meaning. He’s always loved music, singing really is a passion of his, and he immediately loves this is something he can share with Yoongi.

But, then, he feels like he’s teasing himself. He feels such a connection with Yoongi, that it seems like Yoongi _must_ feel it too, but Jimin knows he’s just projecting. Hoping. He wonders if he can be content with just Yoongi’s friendship, and just the thought makes his heart ache. Yoongi’s too cool, too hot, too confident to like someone like Jimin.

Yoongi’s not _popular_ , not exactly; he’s more just respected, so he’s not prejudiced like a lot of the popular kids. He’s not afraid to be seen with Jimin now that they’re acquaintances. He’ll nod his head at him in the hallways and talk to him in class. And sometimes that alone makes Jimin reel.

Jimin’s taken too long to respond, and little dots pop up, showing Yoongi typing again.

From: Yoongi-ssi  
_Are we still down to work after school, btw?_

Jimin bites his lip and laugh-reacts on the meme Yoongi sent, and types a response.

To: Yoongi-ssi  
_Aren’t you in physics right now?_

From: Yoongi-ssi  
_Sure am_

Jimin huffs a laugh. Only Yoongi would text so carelessly in class.

To: Yoongi-ssi  
_Well, yes, I am still down for after school_

From: Yoongi-ssi  
_Cool. Wanna just come over to my place?_

Jimin sits, stunned, as his phone buzzes again.

From: Yoongi-ssi  
_Being at school longer than I strictly have to be makes me nauseous._

Jimin inhales, feeling excitement coarse through him, then trying to suppress it. Yoongi obviously just thinks this is a budding friendship. It’s a natural step.

And now, looking down at his phone, Jimin realizes he’s smiling. He does want to be Yoongi’s friend, he thinks. If he can’t date him, he’ll take the next best thing. He’s only known Yoongi for a short time now, but he’s already unwilling not to have him in his life.

To: Yoongi-ssi  
_That’s fine with me_

From: Yoongi-ssi  
_K. I’ll meet you in the parking lot after school_

Butterflies fill Jimin’s stomach. Jimin tries to smother them as he texts his mom, letting her know he won’t need a ride home from school today, and that he’s going to a friend’s house.

_

Seokjin elbows Yoongi just in the nick of time; right as the teacher glances their way, Yoongi’s phone is slipped between his thighs and his eyes are facing forward. He casts Seokjin a grateful look once Mr. Kim is facing the whiteboard again, and Seokjin rolls his eyes.

“Who are you texting anyways?” he whispers.

“The kid I’m doing my art history project with.” Yoongi whispers back.

“You mentioned something about him yesterday, too,” Hoseok says, turning around in his chair to look at Yoongi, “Who is he?”

Their curiosity concerns him, but he answers as neutrally as he can, “His name’s Jimin.”

Namjoon looks over his shoulder from a few rows up and gives them a look, letting them know they’re obviously not being as quiet as they thought. Seokjin shrugs, Yoongi rolls his eyes, and Hoseok doesn’t even turn around. Yoongi thinks he’s just mad that his assigned seat is so far away from them.

“Ah, he’s that cute, chubby little junior right? Park Jimin?” Seokjin asks.

Yoongi keeps his face impassive as he nods, not trusting his voice.

Seokjin knows him too well anyways, and Yoongi sees him grin out of the corner of his eyes as he keeps his face towards the front.

“You have this kid’s number?” Hoseok says.

“We’re doing a project,” Yoongi defends, “It’s just easier.”

“You asked him for it!” Seokjin whisper-shouts, shit-eating grin spreading across his face like he’s discovered some great secret, and Namjoon gives them another look. They ignore him. 

“It’s not like that!” Yoongi whisper-shouts back, feeling his face heat. He’s being sincere. Mostly, at least. He likes Jimin, and there’s certainly no denying he’s adorable. But he doesn’t even know if Jimin likes guys, and he can’t imagine someone as smart and pretty as Jimin would be interested in dealing with him and his bullshit.

But he _likes_ Jimin. He liked him from their first conversation. Jimin just gets him, and getting to know him has been _fun_. He’s complex, and sweet, with smart eyes and a kind smile. They share interests, and Jimin’s not necessarily the type Yoongi usually goes for, but there’s something about him in his plump shyness that just makes Yoongi’s heart pound. It makes Yoongi want to wrap him in a big, soft blanket and cuddle him.

He’s crushing, hard. He had been hoping to avoid being called out about it for at least another week, but that obviously had been wishful thinking.

Hoseok’s got a shit eating grin now, too, as he says, “Oh, Yoongi~ you two would be so cute!”

“Fuck off!” Yoongi snaps, too loudly. 

“Min Yoongi,” Mr. Kim’s voice rings out from the front of the class.

Yoongi straightens and fights the urge to glare at the back of Hoseok’s head, who had whipped his head back around so fast Yoongi practically felt a breeze. Namjoon peers over his shoulder and gives him an annoyingly sympathetic tried-to-warn-you look. 

Yoongi can practically hear the advice Namjoon will try to give him when Hoseok and Seokjin tell him all about Jimin. Yoongi will tell him to fuck off, while mentally taking some notes. Yoongi’s just...not good with relationships.

“Once more will be detention,” Mr. Kim says.

“Yes sir,” Yoongi says blandly. It’s the last semester of his senior year, and he really can’t be bothered to exert effort into much, especially sucking up to teachers. Yoongi just feels lucky that he hadn’t made out what Yoongi had been saying. That would’ve been detention for sure, which would’ve meant cancelling with Jimin.

Mr. Kim narrows his eyes but resumes the lecture.

_

Yoongi’s mentioned that he has a car before, but when he pulls up in a stout grey car at least 15 years old and rusting around the tires, Jimin can’t help but smile. Somehow, it fits.

Jimin opens the door and slips in, immediately blushing at the way the old seat creaks beneath him. Yoongi doesn’t even glance at it as he starts driving out of the parking lot.

They’re on their way to Yoongi’s when he suddenly pulls into a McDonald’s. He glances at Jimin and says, “I feel like a milkshake. Want one?”

“Sure,” Jimin says easily. Besides just being agreeable, he’d never say no to a milkshake. He usually has an after school snack along these lines anyways.

The realization makes him blush. God, it’s no wonder he’s gotten so chubby.

Still, happiness flutters in his chest as Yoongi orders a vanilla shake for himself and a chocolate one for Jimin after asking his preference.

“Do you want anything else? A snack or something?” Yoongi asks him as the clerk asks him the same question.

“Um,” Jimin says. Well, he usually does like to dip fries in his milkshakes…”Want to split fries?” He proposes, not wanting to come off as too much of a fatass.

Yoongi smiles a little and adds, “And large fries.”

He pulls up and hands the girl a crinkled up wad of bills as Jimin reaches for his backpack to get money. Yoongi waves him away, saying, “You can get it next time.”

Jimin’s heart flutters at the implication.

Yoongi hands Jimin the bag of fries, which is a mistake. They’re not in his lap ten seconds before he’s digging a hand in and raising a few to his lips. Yoongi still doesn’t say anything as Jimin then unwraps his straw and takes a sip of his shake, but this time he does glance Jimin’s way. It’s enough that Jimin feels his face heat and forces himself to slow it down a little.

But Yoongi doesn’t comment, only starts complaining about his physics teacher.

They make it to an apartment complex, then into Yoongi’s unit. Or, his parents’ unit, as he’s quick to point out.

“They’re still at work,” Yoongi says, shucking off his coat and shoes, “thankfully,” he adds.

Jimin huffs an amused laugh, “You don’t get along with them, then?”

Yoongi shrugs, heading off into a hallway and gesturing for Jimin to follow.

“They don’t really support me. Or my music,” he says as they walk into his bedroom. “They’d rather me just be more like my brother. He’s in college now, premed.”

Jimin winces. His own parents are endlessly supportive of all his interests. He feels almost embarrassed by it.

“I’m sorry,” Jimin says, hoping he comes across as sincere as he feels, “That must be really hard.”

Yoongi shrugs. “I turned eighteen this year, and I’m moving out the second I graduate.”

It’s not news that Yoongi’s a senior, but the realization that he could be going away for college hits him like a truck.

Jimin can’t help but ask, “Do you have plans for after graduation?”

Yoongi nods, “There’s a local college that has a good music production program. I’ll do that for a little while, see if I like it, while I work and try to save up some money.”

Jimin looks around Yoongi’s room as Yoongi shrugs off his backpack and puts it on the ground. It’s messy, but less messy than he had envisioned. The tones are neutral, and the furniture is minimal, but modern.

Yoongi settles on his bed and Jimin sits next to him, making a point to not sit too close. But, he underestimated how his thighs would spread out as he sat, and he ends up with his legs brushing Yoongi’s anyway. He stills, but Yoongi doesn’t seem bothered.

Instead, he glances at Jimin and says, “What about you, you have plans for the summer? College prep or something?”

Jimin smiles, and after taking a sip of his milkshake he answers, “Actually, I got a scholarship to a singing program this summer.”

“A scholarship?” Yoongi grins, and the sight makes Jimin’s heart pound. He’s still not used to the sight. “Geez, you gotta be really talented, huh?”

Jimin snorts, blushing, “Don’t tease me. It’s in Jeju, I’m gonna be gone all summer.”

“A proper summer vacation, then. And I’m not teasing, I bet you’re really good.” Yoongi pauses, and looks away, shifting through a bag and pulling his laptop out, “Maybe I’ll get to hear it one day.”

God, Jimin’s sure he’s blushing like crazy. It almost feels like _flirting_. “Ah, you’d have to play the piano in exchange or something, though, or I’d be too embarrassed.”

Yoongi brushes his hair back from his face and glances back at him, looking amused. “Okay, fair enough. Another day, though. We’ve got other stuff to do first.”

_

Their project goes well. They get an easy A which, considering how much time they end up spending on it, seems only natural.

Yoongi had, admittedly, prolonged the whole thing. He feels a little childish about it honestly, somehow too nervous to ask Jimin to hang out without the pretenses of schoolwork. 

So, he spent the last two weeks of their project nitpicking stuff.

_“Hey, Jimin, I was rereading the closing paragraph, and I think it’s a little wordy. Wanna look at it after school?”_

_“Can we look at the third page again, Jimin-ah? I feel like it flows weird.”_

_“Jiminie, I think we should expand the paragraph on_ Drumming of Japan _. My place after school?”_

The excuses were weak, but luckily Jimin never needed much convincing. The work they’d do was minimal, and they’d spend most of the time just hanging out. 

Yoongi loves spending time with him. Jimin holds a great conversation, and he’s just so full of _light_ that it makes Yoongi want to sit closer to him. Hold his hand. Run his hands through his hair.

Jimin’s too cute, too, the way his face lights up when he’s talking about something he’s excited about. Like his singing camp in Jeju. 

_It’s not a camp, hyung_ , Yoongi can practically hear him say, _it’s a scholarship program_. Yoongi knows, of course, but he’s fun to tease and Jimin grins the whole time, so he knows Yoongi’s only joking.

Yoongi’s happy for Jimin, of course. He couldn’t not be with how excited Jimin was. But, selfishly, he was going to miss seeing Jimin everyday. Their project was due the last week of school, and Jimin left for Jeju the following weekend.

Yoongi hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. He had a lot on his own plate; he had moved into his own dinky, old, cheap little studio, and gotten a job at a local bubble tea shop, and was busy signing up for classes in the fall. And yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about Jimin.

Which was something he did _not_ mention to his friends, who would still bring up how much they just _couldn't believe_ that Yoongi hadn’t asked him out before summer started.

So, a few weeks into the summer, Yoongi ended up shooting him a text. And Jimin texted back. 

And now, somehow, they’re texting every day. Jimin texts about the camp a lot, and it sounds like he’s having a lot of fun. Making friends, learning a lot. Yoongi’s happy for him. He’s realizing quickly that when Jimin’s happy, he’s happy.

It’s a friday night and he’s on his way back from work, and he’s just parking his car when he feels his phone vibrate a few times. He pulls it out and sees he’s getting a call from Jimin. His heart starts to pound.

It’s also a little past midnight now, so part of him worries maybe something’s wrong? So he definitely doesn’t hesitate in answering.

“Jimin-ah?”

_“Oh! Hyung, is that you?”_

Hearing Jimin okay, Yoongi huffs a laugh, “Of course it’s me. _You’re_ the one that called _me_.”

_“Right. Oh. It’s-it’s a little late, isn’t it?”_

Something in his tone makes Yoongi smile. His words sound heavy on his tongue. Yoongi thinks he knows what’s going on. 

“Have you had some fun tonight, Jimin?”

 _“Um,”_ he pauses, sounding almost guilty, “ _One of the other students had a bottle of soju. I just got back to my room.”_

“Ah,” Yoongi says, chuckling and unlocking the door to his apartment, “You’re drunk.”

Jimin makes a little noise, one that’s not disagreeing, but maybe a little put out that Yoongi caught on to him so quick. But it’s such a cute, light little sound that now Yoongi’s imagining how flushed his chubby cheeks must be. Yoongi chews his lip.

“ _I wanted to hear your voice_ ,” Jimin ends up saying, and it sounds so sincere that Yoongi’s breath catches.

“Uh- you can call whenever you want, Jiminie.”

Jimin makes a pleased sound on the other end, _“I like when you call me that.”_

“I like calling you that," Yoongi says, too fast.

But Jimin’s laughing again, and it’s followed by some rustling, and him going, _“Oof!”_

“You alright?” Yoongi asks, walking to his closet to change. He’s exhausted, and more than ready to just slip into bed.

 _“Yeah. I- yeah. I’m just really full_ ,” Jimin groans, _“I’ve put on so much weight here.”_

Yoongi chuckles, “It can’t be that much,” he says matter-of-factly, “You’ve only been gone two months.”

_“Don’t underestimate me. Or the food they’re feeding us. The caf here is open until midnight, and I can go as many times as I want. Can you believe that?”_

Jimin’s not usually so open to talking about food or his weight. Yoongi can’t help but smile a little again. There’s just something about a cutely round Jimin, not quite able to resist the temptation of overindulging.

“Well, what did you have for dinner?”

Jimin groans again, but now it’s wistful, _“You mean second dinner? We, uh, we went to the caf after we drank a little and they had pizza.”_

Yoongi smiles, getting into his bed, “I bet that was messy.”

 _“Oh, it was a massacre,_ ” Jimin agrees, giggling, _“Ugh, but I shouldn’t have eaten so much. All my pants are already too tight. Who knows how much weight I’ve already put on here.”_

Yoongi licks his lips, actively trying to _not_ think of Jimin in tight pants. “You’re having fun. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“ _I guess,_ ” Jimin gripes, and Yoongi can practically hear the pout on his face. He wishes Jimin were here in bed with him, so he could kiss it off his plump lips.

Yoongi’s about to try something else reassuring, when Jimin gasps and says, _“Hyung! You’ve moved now, right?”_

“Yeah, Jiminie.”

_“Can I see your new place?”_

“Right now?”

_“Yeah!”_

“Well, FaceTime me instead of calling then. But I’m not getting up, so you’ll get the view from my bed.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Jimin suddenly hesitates, and Yoongi wonders if he said something wrong when Jimin admits, “ _But you’ll see how chubby my face has gotten if I FaceTime you._ ”

“Jimin,” Yoongi chastises, “I don’t give a shit how chubby you are. I’ll always be happy to see your face.”

Before Yoongi can wonder if that’s too much, Jimin says, sounding painfully earnest, “ _Really?_ ”

“Of course.”

Suddenly the line goes dead, and then Yoongi has an incoming FaceTime instead. He turns to the bedside table, flicks on the lamp and answers the call.

Jimin’s face pops up on the screen. Yoongi feels the corners of his lips curl up and he’s helpless to stop it. He’s a little surprised how good it feels to see Jimin’s face. He really has missed him.

He can’t help but notice, though, that maybe Jimin’s not exaggerating about his weight like Yoongi had assumed. He’s always had softly rounded cheeks, but they do look a little puffier, and he’s sporting a little pouch of chub under his chin that’s definitely new. The last time Yoongi had seen him, his little double chin was only really obvious when he was looking down, but now Jimin’s looking straight at the camera, and it’s clear as anything.

His cheeks are pink and his eyes are glassy. God, he’s so cute. Yoongi’s so soft for this kid.

Not wanting silence to carry on too long, lest he make Jimin self-conscious, Yoongi says the first thing that comes into his mind: “It’s nice to see you.”

Jimin bites his lip and his eyes flicker away from the camera, but he’s suppressing a smile, obviously pleased.

_“It’s nice to see you too, hyung. I miss talking to you every day.”_

“We still talk pretty much every day.”

 _“We_ text _every day.”_

“I meant what I said, Jimin-ah, you can call me whenever.”

Jimin sticks his lip out, “ _You can call me, too._ ”

Yoongi huffs fondly, almost in disbelief of his own easy agreement before it leaves his mouth, “Okay, fine, we’ll talk on the phone more.” Jimin’s really got him wrapped around his pudgy little finger.

Jimin beams. Yoongi’s heart thumps hard in his chest.

_“It’s going to be so weird not seeing you around school this year.”_

“You’re the only thing I’ll miss about that place.”

Jimin giggles, “ _Shut up_.”

“I’m serious.”

_“What about all your other friends?”_

“You’re the only underclassman I was friends with. Everyone else graduated, too.”

Jimin hums, resting a cheek in his palm. It only emphasizes just how much cheek there is.

_“I’m not an underclassman, by the way. I was a junior last year and I’m a senior now.”_

Yoongi waves his hand dismissively, “Whatever. Younger than me.”

They continue to talk. Jimin lays down in his own bed, and soon conversation starts to dwindle but neither of them really want to hang up. Instead, they both drift to sleep, still on the line.

Yoongi didn’t even show Jimin his new place.


	2. Chapter 2

Summer ends, and the new school year has started for both Yoongi and Jimin.

Yoongi’s classes are going fine, so far. He appreciates that college is a little less structured than high school; he feels like he’s respected and treated like an actual person. It’s a little easier to give a true effort when you don’t have to ask permission just to use the bathroom.

It’s been a few weeks since school started, but Yoongi hasn’t seen Jimin yet. He works most evenings, when Jimin’s usually free, and Jimin seems to have singing lessons or college prep whenever Yoongi’s free.

They talked and FaceTimed a multitude of times over the final month of summer. Yoongi did finally show Jimin around his tiny little place, and Jimin in turn showed his dorm at his camp.

Jimin was careful to keep his own camera from venturing below his neck. He mentioned a few more times over the summer that he was putting on weight and that the camp food was too good. It was harder to tell, seeing him more regularly, but Yoongi thought maybe he _did_ look a little heavier still than he had in July.

They’re finally meeting up today, though. Yoongi actually has a Saturday off, and Jimin didn’t have any other plans. They’re going to walk around Yoongi’s campus a little, because Jimin insists that he wants Yoongi to show him around, and they’re going to grab some lunch. Maybe go back to Yoongi’s place for a bit afterwards, because Jimin has said he wants to see that in person, too.

Yoongi pulls up to Jimin’s parent’s place, feeling his heart beating annoyingly fast, and shoots Jimin a text.

Jimin must’ve been waiting, because he’s out the door almost before the text is sent. Yoongi’s endlessly grateful that Jimin can’t see his face, because he feels his eyebrows raise and his mouth open in shock.

Jimin’s definitely, noticeably heavier. He must be nearly 10 kilos heavier than he was at the end of the school year. He’s clad in an unzipped sweatshirt with a plain purple t-shirt underneath and jeans. The jeans are too tight, Yoongi can tell from here. They wrap snug around his heavy thighs, brushing against each other with every step. His tummy is well framed by the open sides of the sweatshirt, looking round and puffy, and Yoongi can tell how it’s bouncing a little with each step. As Jimin gets closer, Yoongi can even make out the indent of his bellybutton.

His weight looks good on him, though. Yoongi doesn’t necessarily have a thing for chubby people (he hadn’t thought so, at least), but Jimin looks good as hell. Getting a good eyeful of his body’s got Yoongi’s heart racing, just like it always does.

“Shit,” Yoongi says aloud as he realizes he’s actually starting to get a little hard. He’d admittedly gotten a little, ah, _busy_ in his last two years of high school, but now, it’s been a while. Since he’s been so preoccupied with Jimin, he hasn’t really been interested in pursuing someone else. Therefore, he feels like he can’t fully be blamed for his body’s reaction to Jimin, who is impossibly hot.

All the same, he starts thinking of Grandma Min and that takes care of that.

Jimin pops the passenger door open and flops in gracelessly. Yoongi’s car dips from the weight before resettling, and the old seat makes a sad creaking sound in protest.

“Hi, hyung,” Jimin says, smiling. Still, there’s something shier in his body language than there had before Jimin left for the summer. Yoongi wonders if it’s because he finally can’t hide the true effects of all the overeating he’s done over the summer.

“Hey, Jiminie. Good to see you,” Yoongi says, in an effort to make Jimin more comfortable, he reaches over and ruffles his hair.

Sure enough, Jimin’s grinning and giggling easily as he swats Yoongi’s hand away. The tension dissipates, and Yoongi starts driving to his school.

Yoongi glances his way and sees how the seatbelt strap across Jimin’s hips is just about hidden by the overlap of his tummy. Then he notices the way it bounces when the road’s a little uneven. And the way the strap across his chest pulls his shirt snug enough to display the soft mounds of his chest. 

When he starts feeling hot around the collar again, Yoongi makes himself focus on the road. Jimin’s talking about camp. Yoongi tries to zone in.

He’s doing well, until he glances down, and naturally he can’t help but notice the way Jimin’s thighs are wide enough that they take up most of the car seat.

Yoongi’s so screwed.

He parks and starts showing Jimin around. It’s a nice performing arts school, so it’s got a pretty big, trendy campus. Jimin seems like he’s having a good time, hanging on to Yoongi’s every word as he points to this building and that, acting an awkward tour guide.

Yoongi starts up a hill to get to the building with the recording studios. It’s where he’s been spending most of his little free time lately, just mixing and playing around.

He doesn’t notice Jimin falling behind until he hears him, out of breath.

Yoongi looks over his shoulder and sees Jimin trailing a few paces behind him, panting a little, red-faced and likely not just from exertion.

Yoongi slows down, letting Jimin set the pace. It’s obvious that’s what he’s done but he doesn’t want to embarrass Jimin, so he doesn’t say anything.

Jimin speaks up anyways, “This hill is huge, hyung. Doesn’t this place have any respect for fat people?”

Yoongi chuckles, “You’re not fat, Jimin-ah. We’re almost there.”

Jimin grumbles something grumpy, surely disagreeing. Yoongi’s fingers itch to reach out and take his hand, offer better reassurance, but he refrains.

They make it up the hill and Yoongi takes Jimin inside, showing him some of his schoolwork. Jimin picks up a piece of paper with some lyrics.

“That’s a project for my lyricism class,” Yoongi says. “I’m probably going to ask someone from my class to sing it, since I’ve got the music done.”

Jimin glances at the empty recording booth, then back at Yoongi. “Can I give it a shot?”

Yoongi’s eyes widen, but he nods, “Uh, yeah, absolutely.”

He sits down in front of the boards and computers, unlocking the door so Jimin can enter. It’s obviously not his first time in a recording booth like this, as he easily picks up the headphones and waits for Yoongi to start the music. Yoongi wonders if they had this sort of equipment at the fancy program he was at over the summer.

Jimin seems surprisingly comfortable too, and when Yoongi starts the music and Jimin starts singing, Yoongi is beyond floored. Especially for sight reading, Jimin’s beyond talented. His voice is light and strong all at once, well suited for the track. There’s passion behind the melodic quality of his voice, and here Yoongi was thinking he couldn’t possibly crush any harder on this kid.

When the track’s done, Yoongi speaks through his own headset. “Jesus, Jimin, that was incredible.”

Jimin’s smiling, obviously proud, but he says, “I was a little flat over the second bridge. Can I go again?”

“Absolutely, as long as you’re okay with me using this audio for my project. Try leaning into the second chorus a little more, too. I think it’ll sound good being more powerful and emotional than the first.”

“Got it,” Jimin says easily, and Yoongi starts the music again.

They end up spending a few hours there. It reminds Yoongi of their project in high school, where they were both having too much fun to deliver an end-result of anything less than stellar.

That’s really the only word he has to describe Jimin’s performance. He knew Jimin must be good, but hearing it is another thing entirely.

“You owe me some piano playing, by the way,” Jimin says, still standing in the booth as Yoongi tinkers with the track, laying Jimin’s audio overtop and testing it out. “That was the established exchange rate.”

Yoongi considers pointing out that the only reason he’d agreed was that Jimin had claimed he’d be too embarrassed otherwise. Instead, he says, “How about this?” He starts playing a different track in Jimin’s headphones, a passion project of his that he hadn’t been able to really pursue before getting into college and having these resources at his disposal.

He hears himself rapping in his own ears, too, and he watches Jimin bob his head to the heavy beat, smiling.

When the track ends, Jimin’s still smiling, “Was that another track of yours, hyung?”

“Yeah, that was me.”

“That-that _was_ you? Rapping?!”

Yoongi huffs, scratching the back of his neck and feeling himself blush a little, “Yes.”

“Wooooah,” Jimin gushes, “You’re really good, hyung! I had no idea!”

Yoongi feels his chest swell with pride and he’s about to quip something else, but he hears Jimin’s stomach growl from inside the booth, picked up from the sensitive microphone.

Yoongi glances at the clock, “I promised you lunch, but would you settle for dinner? I guess we got a little caught up.”

Jimin nods, blushing just a little, “That’s fine. Can we get delivery? I don’t want to stop working.”

Yoongi smiles, “Sure. Come out of there for now, though, so we can pick something.”

Jimin obeys, and slips into the chair next to him.

“What do you feel like?” Yoongi asks, scrolling through an app on his phone.

Jimin looks away and shrugs, suddenly closed off. “I dunno. Something light, maybe.”

“Light?” Yoongi questions, “We basically skipped lunch.”

Jimin bites his lip, his eyes guiltily going back to meet Yoongi’s. “I’m on a diet, okay?”

Yoongi doesn’t say anything right away, but he can feel the way his mouth flattens into a disapproving line.

“Don’t look at me like that. I got too fat this summer, I look like a pig,” Jimin says, averting his eyes and tugging at the hem of his shirt.

Yoongi sighs, “You can diet if you want, Jiminie, I’m not going to tell you that you can’t. But don’t say shit like that about yourself. You look good,” Yoongi hardly realizes what he’s said until Jimin’s eyes go wide.

“You’re just saying that,” Jimin says, keeping his eyes down.

“I’m really not.”

Jimin bites his lip but doesn’t respond.

There’s a moment of pregnant silence. Yoongi sighs when Jimin doesn’t say anything, trying to bury the painful sting of rejection and just move forward like he hadn’t said anything, “We can get something healthy, but don’t think I’m just gonna sit around if you try to not eat or something.”

Jimin finally looks back up at him, with a small and bashful smile. “You’re a good hyung,” he says.

“Don’t you forget it. How’s bibimbap?”

It probably wasn’t the healthiest place on the app, but it definitely wasn’t bad, and Jimin’s eyes sparkle as he nods.

Yoongi tosses in an order of dumplings, too, after seeing Jimin had picked one of the smaller bowls. From the way Yoongi had seen him eat in the past, and from the way it sounded like he’d been eating all summer, there’s no way he’d be satisfied. It just doesn’t sit right with him, the idea of letting Jimin go hungry, diet or not.

Once they place their order, Jimin scootches his chair a little closer to Yoongi’s and requests that Yoongi show him the basics; he’s apparently never really been on this side of a recording booth before.

It’s where Yoongi himself feels most comfortable, and even though all the boards look overwhelming, he’s proved a quick study so far.

Jimin listens, rapt. He’s leaning in close, close enough that Yoongi can feel his warm breath on his shoulder. It’s almost too much; what Yoongi wouldn’t give to just be able to turn and kiss him like he deserves.

Yoongi also can’t help but notice his size again. He had removed his unzipped sweatshirt a few minutes after getting into the studio, and while he was standing on the other side of the booth, Yoongi couldn’t really see his body very well. But now, Yoongi can see the way his belly tumbles into his lap, looking helplessly soft and round, and definitely heavier than it was before the summer. If Jimin wasn’t habitually pulling the hem down every few minutes, Yoongi’s sure he would’ve gotten a peak of tummy by now.

The shirt’s tight around the chubby rolls at his sides, too, displaying how wide his love handles have gotten, and displaying an additional little roll perched above them that Yoongi’s pretty sure wasn’t there before summer. It’s even too snug around the chubby width of his upper arms, encasing them tightly.

He’d been chubby when they met, undeniably, but he really might be edging a bit closer to properly fat now.

Yoongi’s entirely unbothered. Frankly, he thinks Jimin looks precious like this. His heart hurts a little, though, knowing Jimin doesn’t think the same.

Yoongi tries to snap himself out of it. Jimin’s obviously not interested like that. Yoongi gave him a pretty good opportunity to say something if he _was_ just a few minutes ago. So he’s obviously not.

Although, he can already hear Seokjin teasing him that notorious flirt Yoongi was too nervous to make an _actual_ move. Ugh.

Their food arrives, and soon they’re digging into take-out containers. Jimin starts talking about the start of his senior year, and Yoongi just hums when it’s appropriate, content as ever to just listen to Jimin’s happy chatter.

Yoongi puts the dumplings between them, and Jimin gives them a long look before picking up just one and popping it into his mouth.

As the meal goes on, suddenly and obviously, Jimin stops eating, leaving maybe a third of his bowl. He puts it on the counter and slides the lid back on. Yoongi gives him a hard look.

“What?” Jimin says, shifting his eyes down and tugging the hem of his shirt down.

“Jiminie, c’mon. You can’t tell me you’re full.”

“I’ve had enough,” he says, giving his bowl a wistful glance.

“We already skipped lunch,” Yoongi reminds him, “Did you at least eat breakfast?”

Jimin’s wide eyes flick to him.

Yoongi nearly drops his chopsticks, feeling shaken from this news, “Yah, seriously, Jimin-ah?”

“I ate a little! I was too nervous to eat more.”

“Too nervous? For what?”

“For- well, this was the first time we were seeing each other in a while!”

Yoongi furrows his brows, “You were nervous to see me?”

Jimin bites his lip and looks down at his lap. There’s heavy silence before Jimin finally says, “Did you mean what you said, hyung? That you think I look good?”

Yoongi swallows, then answers, “Yeah, Jimin. I, uh.” _C’mon, Yoongi, fess up_. “I think you’re really cute.”

Jimin’s eyes snap back up, wide and shocked. But then, a shy little grin makes its way onto his face. Yoongi’s heart starts beating fast.

“I think you’re cute, too, hyung.”

“Cute?” Yoongi jokes, even though he’s starting to feel lightheaded, “Not sleek and handsome?”

Jimin giggles, “Definitely cute.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, but he can’t fight the gummy grin that’s splitting across his face. “I guess this means I get to take you out on a real date then?”

Jimin bites his lip but he’s still smiling, too, “I feel like this already counts. You bought me dinner, after all.”

“Which you better eat more of, by the way,” Yoongi says, giving Jimin a stern look, “I’m your hyung, and if we’re going to date, that means I have double the reason to take care of you. You can diet if you want, but I’m not going to let you go hungry.”

And suddenly, it’s not a hard sell. Jimin makes a show of rolling his eyes, but he picks his bowl back up. He also pulls the container of dumplings closer to himself, popping another one into his mouth.

_

And just like that, they’re _dating_. Boyfriends.

Some mornings, Jimin wakes up and can still hardly believe it. It’s not until he sees his phone’s lock screen, a selfie with Yoongi that he cajoled him into taking at the North Seoul Tower a few weeks ago.

It’s been about a month and a half, now. They’ve agreed to take things slow, mostly for Jimin’s sake. It’s not a secret that Yoongi’s more experienced than him.

Jimin’s grateful and not at the same time. He’s definitely starting to feel ready for more, but…

Well, it’s just that he hasn’t lost any of his summer weight yet.

Yoongi’s not going to judge him, he knows that. He just wants to look good the first time he lets Yoongi take his shirt off with the lights on. He wants Yoongi to like what he sees.

Yoongi stubbornly insists that he thinks Jimin’s beautiful, and he always says it with such earnestness, but there’s a nasty voice in Jimin’s head that insists he’s just being nice.

It’s his own fault that he hasn’t lost any weight, anyways. He’s given some half-hearted attempts, but he’s cheated on his diet far more than once and the only time he gets exercise is when he’s with Yoongi and they go walking around somewhere.

Guilty, he knows he doesn’t really want to diet. His size can be a little cumbersome, and he gets embarrassed when he gets looks in public sometimes, but he’s comfortable. He finally upgraded his wardrobe recently, too. And he really misses samgyeopsal. And hotteok.

He _tries_ to want to diet, though, for Yoongi. How can he possibly be good enough for him otherwise?

Then again, Yoongi never looks particularly pleased when Jimin brings up his diet. He’s probably torn between spoiling his dongsaeng and wanting a boyfriend of a more normal size.

Jimin carelessly mentioned one day that the goal of his diet was to at least get below 90 kilos again. He’d been hovering around 96 since the end of summer, up from around 87 or so before the summer. Being so close to 100 kilos made him a little nervous. That sounded so big, and he’d always told himself he’d never get that big.

Yoongi’s eyes had widened and locked onto Jimin’s plump tummy. Jimin had blushed furiously and realized that 90 kilos wasn’t exactly small, either, especially not to someone like Yoongi who surely didn’t weigh more than 70. Probably less.

The school day has ended and Jimin’s on the bus now, on his way to Yoongi’s. There’s a route that goes from the high school to a stop near Yoongi’s college campus. Yoongi’s little studio is close enough to campus that it’s only about a five minute walk from the bus stop.

He could use the exercise, anyways.

Yoongi’s still at work, but he gets off soon. Jimin uses his spare key to get into Yoongi’s place.

Yoongi had tried to pass it off like it wasn’t a big deal, giving Jimin his spare key, but Jimin had been buzzing with happiness and he knew it must’ve been written all over his face. It’s still a little crazy to him that Yoongi reciprocates his feelings.

The tiny apartment is messy, which isn’t new. Yoongi’s so busy lately that when Jimin’s here alone, he’ll make a point to help out with a chore or two. He’ll pick up the dirty laundry off the floor and start a load in the laundry room down the hall, or clean the dishes in the sink. He’s here all the time lately, so it only makes sense that he should help out.

The laundry situation doesn’t look too bad today; Jimin picks up a few pairs of pants off the floor (noticing with chagrin how tiny Yoongi’s waist is) and puts them in the hamper, which isn’t even halfway full yet so he leaves it.

He walks to the kitchenette instead. It’s small, and Jimin had realized quickly that it’s too small for the both of them to be in there at the same time, lest he want Yoongi constantly bumping into his tummy. They had cooked together in here once, and Yoongi had looked unbothered, almost pleased that they couldn’t help bumping into each other, but Jimin had squirmed away, a little embarrassed.

He cleans some of the pots and pans Yoongi has sticking out of his sink. As he’s scrubbing, he notices a pack of oreos sitting on Yoongi’s counter. 

He shouldn’t, he _knows_ he shouldn’t, but he still does. He reaches for the pack once his hands are dry. Yoongi likes sweets, and he usually has some around, even if they take him a while to get through. 

Sure enough, Jimin sees it’s been opened, with only three cookies eaten. He scoffs. Such moderation was something Jimin just wasn’t capable of. They really couldn’t be more different.

Yoongi gave him the green light early on to make himself at home, which included a green light to Yoongi’s snacks. Jimin does okay at avoiding them, usually just by denying himself permission to rummage through Yoongi’s cabinets. But Yoongi really should know better than to keep cookies out where his fat boyfriend can see them. It’s his own fault, really.

Jimin takes the cookies and sits on Yoongi’s bed, pulling his laptop out to work on some homework. He munches thoughtlessly as he works, and by the time 4pm rolls around, he’s finished a math assignment and well over half the cookies.

He puts them on the bedside table and slips under Yoongi’s sheets. He’s had a busy week and it’s not a surprise to him when his eyes start to feel heavy. He lets them close, snuggling into Yoongi’s pillow and breathing deep.

He drifts into a light sleep, awakened when he feels a slender arm drape itself over his waist from behind.

The touch is soothing, though, and Jimin makes a little pleased sound.

“I like coming home to you here,” Yoongi murmurs, pressing a kiss to the shell of his ear now that he knows Jimin’s awake.

Jimin just makes another little sound, not quite wanting to open his eyes yet.

Yoongi’s wide awake, though. His hand on Jimin’s side caresses gently over the swell of his hip. He blushes a little, because he’s pretty wide there and it’s still embarrassing, but it feels so _nice_ and there’s never any judgement in Yoongi’s touches, so he lets himself enjoy it.

“Thanks for doing my dishes,” Yoongi says, now kissing the back of Jimin’s neck, “You’re too good to me, Jiminie.”

Jimin snorts lightly, starting to wake up a little more. He rolls over so he’s on his back, and he blinks at Yoongi who’s now propped on his side, under the sheets with Jimin, even though they’re rolled down to their hip area now. Yoongi doesn’t move his hand, which went from wrapped around his love handle to being draped across his belly.

“What time is it?” Jimin asks, gladly puckering up when Yoongi leans in for a proper greeting kiss.

“A little after six.”

Jimin groans, “You should’ve woken me sooner.”

Yoongi looks unapologetic, “You looked so peaceful, and senior year is stressful. I know you’ve been missing some sleep lately.”

Jimin doesn’t really have an argument there.

“Oh, and I ordered pizza for dinner, hope that’s okay,” Yoongi adds.

It sounds _fantastic_ , but Jimin can’t help but pout, especially as Yoongi’s hand absently wanders the doughy wobble of his tummy.

“It’s fine. It’s probably not good for my diet, though,” he grumps halfheartedly.

Yoongi’s eyes drift to his bedside table, where the pack of oreos still sit. His hand moves with a little more purpose, giving Jimin’s chunky side a squeeze that’s both loving and teasing.

“Oreos are on the diet, then?” he says, grinning as Jimin pinkens. 

“Hyuuuuung, I can’t help it, you left them out,” Jimin whines, “I still saved you a few, I didn’t finish them.”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow, “I’m not complaining. You know I don’t mind.”

Jimin watches Yoongi as he snuggles a little deeper into Jimin’s side, resting his head on Jimin’s chest. He looks like he could fall asleep, too. His hand drifts to Jimin’s ribcage, the narrowest part of his torso even though it’s still well padded. It’s right between the puffiness of his chest and where the roll of his love handles start. Yoongi’s fingers stroke back and forth. His touch is soothing, his hands warm through the fabric of Jimin’s t-shirt. He tilts his head up so he can still make eye contact. His eyes are patient.

Jimin used to squirm a lot more when Yoongi touched his tummy like this. There’s something so vulnerable about it, beyond it just being a bit embarrassing with how flabby he is. Yoongi’s hands always seem to wander there during cuddles though. Jimin questioned him about it outright once, and Yoongi had just blinked at him and announced that Jimin’s very soft, feels very nice and is perfect to cuddle with.

Jimin hadn’t known what to say to that. It still seems insane, that it’s really that simple, that Yoongi doesn’t mind that Jimin is not just soft, but abundantly and excessively soft. But looking in Yoongi’s eyes, being under his gentle touch, it’s hard to deny that it’s the truth.

It settles Jimin further. Yoongi’s eyes look like they’re getting heavier by the minute and Jimin pulls him a little closer. Yoongi’s head nestles deeper into the softness over his chest and his hand drifts down to where Jimin’s belly is the wobbliest, the pooch below his belly button. Thanks to Yoongi’s wandering hands, Jimin’s shirt has ridden up a little. Yoongi cups his tummy where it’s now bare and makes a happy sound.

Jimin still blushes, seeing how chubby he looks like this. He’s not _bothered_ , not really, so it’s almost out of reflex that he says, “I need to do better on my diet.”

He can nearly hear the mopiness in his own voice, so it’s not surprising that Yoongi’s bleary eyes give him a stern look.

“You don’t need to diet at all,” he says.

Jimin bites his lip to keep himself from smiling. That’s what he had wanted to hear, really.

He needs to inquire further. He’s not trying to fish for compliments, not really, it’s just...the reassurance is really nice. It still feels surreal sometimes.

Jimin meets Yoongi’s stare. “You really don’t think so, hyung? I put on a lot of weight this summer.”

Yoongi glances down at his hand, where it rests on the bare strip of pudge poking over his waistband. Jimin blushes when he sees one of his embarrassingly pink stretch marks is visible, peeking out from under the hem of his shirt.

Jimin sputters a little when Yoongi gives the crest of his belly a few pats. Jimin’s tummy wobbles helplessly. Yoongi cranes his neck up to place a few placating kisses to Jimin’s jaw before he can complain.

“You did gain some weight this summer,” Yoongi agrees, “but no, I don’t think you need to diet. I think you look good, Jiminie. You know that.”

Jimin swallows, “I, uh. I think I don’t want to anymore, then.”

Yoongi’s eyes open up a little more and he pulls back. “Are you sure, Jimin? It’s up to you. I want to support you either way. I can be better about hiding my cookies. And maybe I shouldn’t have ordered pizza...”

Jimin smiles and shakes his head, looking down at Yoongi, “No, it’s okay and yes, I’m sure. I’m sick of it and it’s not like I’ve lost any weight anyways.”

Yoongi doesn’t speak right away. His eyes bore into Jimin’s, like he’s trying to discern if he’s being honest or not, before he says, “Okay. Whatever you want. I just want you to be happy.”

Looking at Yoongi, laying against his plush side, looking soft and sleepy, Jimin couldn’t feel anything but. Even if the reason Yoongi was so comfortable was because Jimin was carrying around an extra 35 kilos, right now, that didn’t really bother him.

“I am happy, hyung. Really happy.”

Yoongi grins, that too cute for his own good gummy smile that makes Jimin’s heart race. He crawls up a little so he can give Jimin a kiss on the cheek.

“Good. You make an especially good pillow like this, anyways, Jimin-ah.”

Jimin snorts, “Gee, thanks, hyung. Glad it’s good for something.”

He was aiming for it to be a joke, but there’s enough disparaging in his tone to make Yoongi pull back again and give him a look. His hand moves back down to the strip of tummy that’s exposed. The hem’s almost to his belly button now, and more of the embarrassingly pink stretch marks that halo his belly button are visible. Yoongi runs his fingers across the chubby roundness of his lower belly almost defensively, like he has to protect Jimin’s body from his mind.

Maybe he’s not far off.

“This is your body we’re talking about, baby,” Yoongi says softly, and he’s really pulling out the stops if he’s using pet names, “it’s good for everything. Anything. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

Jimin doesn’t think he’d recognize himself in Yoongi’s eyes. However Yoongi sees him, it must be a hell of a lot different than how he sees himself, because Jimin still doesn’t entirely understand what Yoongi’s doing with him in the first place.

“I know. I’m not trying to be dramatic,” Jimin explains, “I know my worth isn’t determined by my weight, or anything like that. It’s just hard, sometimes. To _really_ get that.”

Yoongi hums sympathetically, “I know, Jiminie.” Yoongi doesn’t say anything else for a few moments before his voice switches to a monotone drawl, one he uses when he’s trying to be funny and make Jimin smile, “I know you’re stupidly hot but you can’t see it, so don’t worry, we’ll work on it.”

It works, like it usually does, and Jimin’s giggling. “Hyuuung,” he whines.

“Maybe you need glasses,” Yoongi muses, looking at him with big, innocent eyes, “When’s the last time you’ve gotten your eyes checked?”

Jimin laughs, giving Yoongi’s shoulder a weak shove. Yoongi grins, and leans in for a kiss.

It starts heating up out of nowhere, and soon Jimin’s got his hands under Yoongi’s shirt, feeling the leanness of his waist. Yoongi’s got a greedy handful of Jimin’s ass. When they get like this, Jimin feels a lot less embarrassed about the way his ass overflows Yoongi’s hands. Instead, it just feels good. To be held, tightly, shamelessly.

But then, Yoongi’s phone buzzes. He pulls away, then comes back and gives Jimin another peck when he loudly groans in protest.

“Food’s here,” Yoongi says, and while Jimin was greatly enjoying their activities just a moment ago, he realizes he really is hungry.

Yoongi slides out of bed, then looks back at Jimin, still laying on his back. He must look debauched from their kiss, because Yoongi’s face goes soft and he leans down, giving him another kiss. “God, you’re so pretty,” he murmurs against Jimin’s lips, and Jimin feels electricity prickle at his skin.

But then Yoongi’s walking away and toeing his sneakers on to retrieve their dinner. Jimin’s left breathless in his bed.

Peace settles over Jimin as he waits for Yoongi to return. He feels good, having talked with Yoongi about ending his diet, and having Yoongi support him.

Jimin sits up and notices his shirt has gotten rucked up almost to his chest. Yoongi might not mind that Jimin’s fat, but Jimin still doesn’t see reason to call attention to it by just carelessly letting his belly hang out.

Jimin tugs the hem down before Yoongi returns.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little longer because it was either: break the two remaining parts of the fic into two different chapters, or just post it as one big one. I decided to just post it as one big one ¯\\_ (ツ)_/¯

Yoongi’s running late, and Jimin hasn’t answered his most recent call. Yoongi wishes that he weren’t feeling so nervous about that, but. The idea of Jimin being upset with him has him twitchy and anxious. 

They were supposed to make dinner tonight, together, as part of their own mini-Chuseok celebration. Jimin’s family had partaken in a lot more festivities than Yoongi’s. His own family made a two-day trip to Daegu, and it was full of small comments from his mother about changing his major, and outright, snide judgement from his father.

It was nice to see his brother, and they’ve always got along fine, but the constant comparisons had just really tired Yoongi out. Conversely, Jimin and his family had been in Busan, and Yoongi had gotten lots of snapchats of food, family, and the like, so he knew Jimin had a nice time.

They were both back in Seoul now, and Jimin knew full well how miserable Yoongi had been over the last two days, and Jimin announced that he’d make Chuseok fun again for Yoongi. They were supposed to make a bunch of food, play hwatu, and Jimin mentioned he’d gotten Yoongi a gift (Yoongi had done the same). Jimin also admitted he knew some steps to Ganggangsullae, because he had apparently been highly affronted as a child to learn that it was for girls only, so his cousins had taught him some steps to placate him.

But, the person who was supposed to relieve Yoongi after his shift was a no show, and the shift leader that night was an asshole and insisted Yoongi needed to stay at least a _little_ longer. Yoongi couldn’t really say no; he needs this job. When Yoongi finally left, he walked all the way to the lot he had parked in (Seoul’s a crowded place), before he realized he left his keys in his apron, and had to walk all the way back. When he finally started driving, there was an accident in the road, making traffic much heavier than usual. Overall, he was running about two hours late.

Jimin’s not usually the type to get mad about stuff like this, but as Yoongi finally pulls into his apartment’s lot, he can’t help but be nervous that Jimin hasn’t at least texted him back. He also can’t help the increasing feeling like he’s ruined their first real holiday together.

When he lets himself in he sees Jimin there, in the kitchenette, already cooking up a storm. He gives Yoongi a sunny smile, and Yoongi feels relief wash over him.

“About time!” Jimin says, but he’s obviously not upset, “I started getting dinner ready so we wouldn’t be eating too late.” He’s wearing a navy apron, with silver music notes, rests, clefts and the like dotted all over. Yoongi smiles easily; his boyfriend looks stupidly cute.

“Sorry I’m so late,” Yoongi says, walking over to press a kiss to Jimin’s chubby cheek, “There was an accident on the way home. I called.”

Jimin’s oblivious to Yoongi’s worry. “Ah, that’s too bad, hope everyone’s okay,” he says, “I started cooking after you texted and said you had to work a little late, so I must’ve missed it.”

Yoongi nods, feeling silly.

Now Jimin catches it a little, and furrows his brow, asking, “What’s wrong?”

Yoongi huffs a little laugh and scratches the back of his head, “No, nothing, I uh. I was just scared you were mad.”

“Mad?” Jimin blinks, putting down the spoon he’s using to wrap his arm around Yoongi’s waist and pull him into a side hug, “You can’t change traffic, or your manager.”

“I know,” Yoongi says, wrapping a grateful arm around Jimin’s thick waist. The dark color of his apron hides some of the bulk of his belly, but the roundness is still apparent. He looks good.

“Maybe I’m just still on edge from being with my family,” Yoongi admits, looking away.

Jimin makes a soft, sympathetic sound. “Well, then, let’s start by giving you your gift!” Jimin announces happily, stepping away from Yoongi and producing a neatly wrapped box.

“I think gifts are supposed to be after food,” Yoongi says, but he takes the box all the same.

“This one has to be before,” Jimin says as Yoongi starts unwrapping it. 

He smiles when he unfolds the neatly packed tissue paper and sees an identical apron as the one Jimin already has on.

“It would’ve been a better surprise if I wasn’t already wearing mine,” Jimin laments, “but I didn’t want to make a mess.”

“I love it,” Yoongi says. It’s a little dorky, but it feels very _Jimin_ so for that alone, he really does love it.

“Put it on,” Jimin says eagerly, so Yoongi slips it over his head, and Jimin turns him around to tie it in the back for him.

“Gosh, you’re so skinny, hyung,” Jimin comments as he ties it around the narrow of his waist, “Look how much extra string you have!” As if Yoongi can see behind himself. “I had way less. It only came in one size,” Jimin adds, sounding more wistful than actually upset.

Yoongi turns around once Jimin’s gotten it tied, and Jimin squeals happily.

“You look so cute,” he gushes, and Yoongi rolls his eyes.

They take a few pictures. Full-body, so you can see their aprons. Jimin otherwise steers away from taking those kinds of pictures with Yoongi. Yoongi’s tempted to call Jimin out for sucking his tummy in, but the kid’s only been off his diet for a few weeks and overall it seems like he’s trying to be nicer to himself about his body, so he lets it slide. After that, Jimin directs Yoongi on what he can do to help. It’s almost embarrassing how much more adept Jimin is in the kitchen, especially considering Yoongi is already out on his own, but Jimin says he learned a lot from cooking with his mom and that’s not an experience Yoongi really has.

The kitchenette is still too small for two people, especially when one of them is somewhere around 100 kilos, but Jimin’s less skittish about it than he had been the last time they cooked together. His belly and hips still get in the way sometimes, bumping against Yoongi’s sides or back, and while he turns a nice shade of pink every time, now he’ll just smile or giggle shyly instead of flinching away.

They’re making bulgogi, japchae and pajeon for dinner, and a batch of songpyeon for dessert. Jimin even insisted on making osaek songpyeon. Yoongi feared it would be complex, but he actually finds it isn’t at all, and he proudly places the finished product in the steamer. Jimin’s mom even lent them her steamer, much larger and nicer than Yoongi’s own second hand steamer, and gave them her leftover pine needles from the Park’s own Chuseok celebrations.

Since Yoongi’s done with that task now, he hovers over Jimin’s shoulder, watching him stir the pan of japchae. His love handles swell proudly outwards below the string of his apron, and they look like perfect little hand holds, so Yoongi goes ahead and slips his hands over the soft bulges. Jimin cranes his neck to look at him and he’s smiling, and presses a kiss to Yoongi’s cheek.

“Here, hyung, let me help you get the batter started for the pajeon,” Jimin says, letting the noodles cook a while longer.

Soon, Yoongi’s little studio is getting warm from all the cooking and bustling, so Yoongi opens his one single window to get some airflow. Yoongi actually feels okay, but Jimin’s cheeks are turning pink and he’s got a few beads of sweat along his brow. It’s not surprising because frankly, he’s working harder and longer than Yoongi, but he doesn’t want Jimin to get uncomfortable or self conscious.

Soon, the japchae and songpyeon are done, and Jimin is pan frying the last of the pajeon and bulgogi. Yoongi’s gathering all the dirty dishes into his sink, trying to do a bit of cleaning so it’s not so bad in the morning.

“Ugh, I’m tired. My feet hurt,” Jimin complains. He puts his hands on his lower back and pushes his stomach out in a stiff stretch. It’s not a flattering position for someone who’s insecure about their belly, and it nearly makes him look pregnant.

Yoongi’s nonplussed. If anything, he’s sympathetic that Jimin’s feeling sore. He dries his hands and steps closer, brushing Jimin’s hands away from his lower back. Jimin straightens, then sags as Yoongi massages his thumbs into his lower back in a circular motion.

“Is your back sore, too?” Yoongi asks, even though the answer seems apparent.

Jimin bites his lip and nods. “Yeah. Probably because I put on so much weight this year. If I’m on my feet for a while I notice it,” he says, voice quiet and nervousness lingering around the edges, “I’m not fully used to it yet, I guess,” he sighs, “Probably doesn’t help that I’m lazy.”

Yoongi hums, “You’re not. Not liking exercise doesn’t mean you’re lazy. You’re busy, Jimin, and you said you’ve been getting more exercise these last few months than you have in years,” he points out, “We go for walks a lot. You walked here from the bus stop, and we’ve been working in here for a few hours. You, even longer. I don’t think it’s unreasonable to be a little achy. Especially if you haven’t been spending a lot of time on your feet before.”

Jimin steps away from Yoongi’s hands to empty the pans and put the pajeon and bulgogi onto serving dishes, also from his mom. Then he steps back into Yoongi’s waiting arms. He’s smiling, a smile that’s somehow a little teasing and shy at the same time.

“When we walk, half the time it’s to go get food,” Jimin points out, “and the walk from the bus stop is only, like, five minutes.”

“If you’re not used to it, you’re going to be a little sore,” Yoongi says resolutely.

Jimin’s still a little pink, but he’s also still smiling as he says, “Let’s get me off my feet, then. I’m starving.”

They bring the food to Yoongi’s couch, laying everything out on the coffee table, since Yoongi doesn’t have a dining area to speak of.

The food’s good. Really good. He feels some pride, even though he was mostly just pointed in the right direction.

“Shit, you’re talented, Jiminie. We really should cook together more often,” Yoongi says.

“It’s cheaper than eating out, too,” Jimin says through a big mouthful of bulgogi.

“I might actually learn a thing or two with you helping,” Yoongi adds. He’s only capable of the absolute basics, or reheating something frozen. “And we have matching aprons now, so there’s really no excuse.”

Jimin beams.

It’s not long before Yoongi starts to feel full. He’s never had a big appetite, which is probably obvious just looking at him. 

His eyes flit to Jimin, who is so obviously enjoying his meal that Yoongi smiles. Good food always brings Jimin a lot of joy, and seeing Jimin so happy makes Yoongi happy. He sees no issues.

Jimin got less shy about how much he eats a while ago. They had shared meals together even before Jimin left for the summer, and while he’d seem a little shy about it at the beginning, it usually didn’t stop him from eating his fill. Which is to say, around double what most adults eat during a single meal.

The amount decreased drastically when he returned from summer, and went on his diet, but now it had returned with a vengeance. Yoongi wonders if he’s just misremembering, or if Jimin has _always_ eaten so much. It’s always been a lot, he knows, but since he’s been off his diet, his appetite seems bigger than ever.

Yoongi wonders if it’s a habit he picked up over the summer. Jimin says his overeating was unparallelled there, so maybe his appetite is just up a few notches since.

Either way, Jimin’s plowing through the rest of the food. He doesn’t seem to notice that Yoongi’s stopped eating, too focused on the food in front of him.

He takes a big bite of pajeon. He’s been eating well these past few weeks, and Yoongi absently wonders if Jimin’s going to keep it up. He’ll probably put on more weight if he does, even with Yoongi getting him outside a little more.

Yoongi searches himself for any feeling and comes up mostly indifferent. He imagines Jimin a little rounder, tummy a little softer, double chin a little puffier. All that he finds is his heart melting with affection. He’d be precious. Just like he is now, just like Yoongi would probably think he always was regardless of what he weighed.

He’s taken his apron off, naturally, and is left in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that was certainly purchased after the summer, considering how it fits nicely over the dome of his belly rather than clinging tightly. The bulkiness is still obvious, though, especially as he keeps eating and his tummy starts to bloat outwards.

He maybe shouldn’t find it as endearing as he does, how Jimin just can’t quite resist overindulging with food, but he just looks so happy and _cute_. His cheeks puff out with each bite and there’s a happy twinkle in his eyes, and knowing he’s eating food he and Yoongi worked hard on just makes it that much sweeter.

He’s never been happier, he realizes in a head-dizzying rush. They haven’t said the L-word yet, but fuck. Yoongi really loves this kid.

“What?” Jimin asks, bringing Yoongi out of his trance. “You’re staring,” he complains, blushing.

“You’re pretty, I can’t help it,” Yoongi answers easily, which earns him an eyeroll and a pleased smile.

Jimin has nearly finished the last of the food. He’s got what remains on his plate, a pile of juicy bulgogi. He usually eats pretty fast, but his bites are slow now, a sure sign that he’s really getting full. It had been a lot of food. Still, he perseveres, raising bite after bite to his plump lips.

When he’s done, pinned to the couch from his heavy belly, Yoongi goes back to the kitchen to retrieve the songpyeon. They came out remarkably well, considering Yoongi had done most of the work. They’re soft and colorful, and Yoongi hopes they taste okay.

Jimin’s eyes are sparkling as Yoongi settles back next to him. He reaches for a little pink one, pops the whole thing in his mouth and grins in pleasure.

He works his way through trying all five colors, as Yoongi nibbles on a brown songpyeon. He’s already too full to eat much more, but he’s happy that it’s not going to waste.

Yoongi’s eyes wander back to Jimin’s belly. Yoongi doesn’t think he’s ever seen him eat quite so much.

Jimin seems unaware of Yoongi’s gaze this time, but when he hiccups softly before reaching for another songpyeon, Yoongi speaks up.

“Don’t make yourself sick, Jiminie,” he says softly. He doesn’t want Jimin to think it’s a condemnation, but he doesn’t want him to hurt himself.

Jimin turns to him, surprised. Then he gives a rueful grin.

“Oh, hyung, honestly, this is nothing. You should’ve seen me over the summer. I…” Jimin pauses before finishing, “Honestly, it’s kind of embarrassing how much I can eat.”

That’s a foreign concept to Yoongi. He’d be sick as hell eating just half of what Jimin had put away tonight.

He shifts a little closer, chuckling and saying, “I should know better by now, is that what you’re saying?” He lets his hand drape over the crest of Jimin’s belly. It’s warm and taut, and it feels so different from his usual jiggly softness and Yoongi can’t help rubbing a few experimental circles in it.

Jimin groans unexpectedly beneath him. Yoongi blinks up at him, and Jimin’s eyes have fluttered shut. “That feels really nice, hyung,” he says, leaning back against the couch, uncaring or unaware of how the position makes his belly look like a big round ball sitting in his lap.

Yoongi chuckles again. He’s figured out that Jimin rather likes hands on his belly, but he usually doesn’t blatantly admit it or ask for Yoongi’s hands there unless they’re getting hot and heavy. It must feel sore, despite how Jimin says he’s fine.

Eventually, Jimin musters the energy to finish the songpyeon and Yoongi dutifully rubs his bloated tummy in the meantime.

It’s already getting late, since Yoongi was so late getting home, and he finds his eyes getting heavy. They usually do anyway, when he’s cuddling up against Jimin’s softness. It’s soothing, warm, and so very comfortable.

“You’re falling asleep,” Jimin notices.

“Mmh,” Yoongi says, pulling himself in closer until he’s flush against Jimin’s fattened hip.

Jimin giggles, “You know, I never would’ve guessed you’d be such a cuddler.”

“You’re the best person I’ve ever cuddled with in my whole life.”

“Because I’m fat,” Jimin says, a fake pout on his lips, the kind where he’s just being difficult for the sake of it. Yoongi’s learned to tell the difference between that attitude, and true insecurity.

“Well, it definitely doesn’t hurt,” Yoongi says, and gives his belly a few pats, taking care not to jostle him.

Jimin barks a laugh, followed by a complaint, “Hyuuuuung!”

“Hush,” Yoongi says, snuggling deeper into his plush side, “You’re pretty as fuck and you know it.”

Jimin hums and doesn’t respond. After giving Yoongi a few more minutes of snuggling into him, he gives Yoongi’s shoulder a gentle rousing shake. “Hyung, c’mon, let’s get you to bed.”

“What? No,” Yoongi protests, leaning back to meet Jimin’s big, doe eyes. From this angle, his double chin pooches out more than usual. Fuck, he really is so unfairly pretty.

“What do you mean, ‘no’? You’re falling asleep.”

Yoongi gets to his feet, “I haven’t given you your gift yet,” he says, rummaging through a drawer before procuring a package wrapped in newspaper. He’s a little embarrassed that it looks a lot shabbier than the gift Jimin had given him, but hey, Jimin still lives with his parents, so he probably just used their wrapping supplies.

Jimin looks entirely unbothered anyway. His whole face lights up, and he makes an effort to sit up a little.

“Hyung,” he says softly as he unwraps the present. It’s a collection of some of his favorite comics. Yoongi had actually found them on a resale site as he was buying some used furniture for his apartment. They’re still in good shape, and the deal had been too good to pass up.

Jimin’s eyes are wide, “This must’ve cost you a fortune!”

Yoongi scratches the back of his head, “Aish, they’re used and I got a good deal.”

He’s surprised by the speed Jimin musters at getting to his feet and wrapping Yoongi in a tight hug.

“God, you’re the best, hyung. I love you.”

Jimin freezes, and begins unwrapping himself from Yoongi. Yoongi takes a hold of his round, chubby biceps to stop him from moving too far.

Jimin ducks his head, “I don’t mean- you don’t have to say it back, maybe that was-”

Yoongi silences him with a kiss. When he pulls back, he holds Jimin’s soft cheeks in his palms, making him keep eye contact.

“I love you too, Jimin-ah.”

Jimin’s smile is radiant, and he goes in for another kiss.

_

Yoongi tries not to stare as Jimin shuffles into a pair of jeans, but he really can’t help it. Beyond always being infatuated with Jimin’s body, the scene before him confirms what he’s been suspecting over the past few weeks.

Jimin’s put on some more weight.

It’s been a few months since Jimin went off his diet in September. It’s December now, and the overeating Yoongi witnessed at Chuseok hasn’t slowed down. Yoongi’s honest acceptance seems to have finally sunk through Jimin’s head, and Jimin’s indulgences have only increased. He rummages through Yoongi’s cabinets whenever he wants now, munching on his snacks and eating whatever leftovers are in his fridge.

Jimin’s pretty self-aware, though, and he’s actually started picking up groceries every now and then to stock Yoongi’s place. Yoongi would never ask him to, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate it. Jimin’s appetite isn’t cheap. Sometimes Yoongi comes home to Jimin wearing his apron, making them dinner with something he’d bought at the market on his way over and it’s just the sweetest, most domestic thing and it makes Yoongi melt.

His mind wanders to two weeks ago, the last time they had made a point to cook together. They’ve been doing it more frequently, as they both agreed they wanted to, and naturally they had started to don their aprons before beginning.

Yoongi had done his up and was reading through the recipe Jimin had picked from Pinterest, when he heard Jimin make a soft huffing sound from behind him.

He turned to see Jimin struggling to do the strings up, both hands behind him, belly sticking out and pressed firmly to the front of his apron.

It was then that he first noticed, _really_ noticed that Jimin was a little heavier than he had been in the fall. He’d complained when he first got the aprons that they only came in one size, and that the strings didn’t have a lot of extra space for him. But still, he’d been able to do it up back then.

“Turn around, Jiminie,” Yoongi had said, and Jimin did so with an irritated huff, muttering something about ‘stupid short strings’.

Yoongi had been a little surprised to find that the strings were barely able to meet in the back. It would be nearly impossible to tie with the amount of string he had.

So Yoongi had given Jimin’s tummy a fond pat, a kiss on the cheek from behind and said, “Suck in a little, baby.”

Jimin’s cheeks were _red_ , but he huffed again and obeyed. Yoongi let the strings settle a little higher on Jimin’s waist, where he was a bit narrower, and tied them. It made his apron look a little bunched from the front, but at least he’d be comfortable.

Jimin had tried to straighten it a little, which only made his belly bounce behind the apron.

Yoongi absently wondered if Jimin’s mom would be able to add a few inches to the strings if she had some scrap fabric lying around. She’s pretty handy like that, but Yoongi had thought better than to mention it in that moment.

Instead, Yoongi had put a hand on his waist and said, “You look nice.” He leaned in for a kiss, which Jimin reciprocated for a moment before pulling away.

“No funny business,” he had said, cheeks pink, stepping to the counter, “We’ve got work to do.”

Yoongi noticed his increased weight a little more after that. It had been harder to pick up on this time, since they see each other nearly every day, but now Yoongi has no doubts.

He’s still laying in bed, not quite ready to get up and get dressed yet. They’re going to a college party tonight, since winter break just started for him. He’s made an acquaintance with a kid from one of his classes, and honestly, Yoongi thinks he’s kind of a tool, but he’s chaebol and is throwing what’s supposed to be the best party of the year. He invited Yoongi and told him to bring whoever he wanted, that it would be a big party at his family’s place. Yoongi hadn’t expected Jimin to want to come, but when Yoongi said he could bring his friends, Jimin proposed that maybe it would be fun.

So, Yoongi invited his friends, too. Jimin’s met them by now, but they’ve never merged both friend groups together and Yoongi thinks they’ll get along just fine. Neither him or Jimin are very big on party scenes, but they’ve agreed to just leave whenever they feel like it.

Coming back to reality, Yoongi’s eyes settle back on Jimin. He’s been big on sweatpants lately, so it probably shouldn’t come as a surprise to either of them that Jimin’s struggling.

He’s got them up his chunky thighs, and they’re tight. He’s shifting from foot to foot, trying to get the waist over the swell of his rear. As it stands, his plump ass is overflowing the waistband. He’s wearing a plain white t-shirt that fits okay, and Yoongi knows he’s brought a button up he’s planning on wearing over top.

Jimin’s gotten a lot better when it comes to being less embarrassed about his body, at least around Yoongi. He never would’ve gotten such a display just a few months ago. It probably went hand in hand with their uptake in physical intimacy. Jimin had turned 18 in October, and neither of them were very interested in waiting much longer than that.

“Why don’t you just wear a different pair, Jiminie?” Yoongi finally says.

“These fit,” Jimin quickly says. Yoongi bites his lip so he doesn’t point out that, in fact, they pretty obviously _don’t_.

Jimin shifts, jiggles, and hops a little, and finally the waistband slides over his ass. They look absolutely painted on.

Jimin huffs a happy, relieved sound, although Yoongi’s not sure why. He’s only now gotten to the hardest part.

Jimin’s chubby hands grip the flaps of his jeans, tugging the two sides together. There’s a dollop of pudge escaped from the bottom of his t-shirt keeping them from fastening.

Yoongi slips out of bed as Jimin continues to wrestle with the jeans. He sucks in his tummy and tries to do the button up underneath the swell of his belly, still having difficulties.

Yoongi comes up behind him, placing a protective hand over Jimin’s middle. Most of his weight accumulates there, and with the recent addition of a few more kilos, it’s prone to folding into even more cutely chubby rolls when he sits. Yoongi pulls the hem of his shirt down, so the softened fat of his lower belly is contained again, and he gives it an affectionate rub.

“Even if you get these on, you’ll be uncomfortable all night,” he says softly.

Jimin sighs, turning to meet his eyes with a pout. “These are the only pair I brought.”

“I think I’ve got a pair of your jeans here,” Yoongi says, moving to look through his drawers. Jimin’s jeans are easy to pick out compared to his, as they’re significantly bigger.

He procures a pair, and he’s turning to hand them to Jimin as Jimin whines in protest, “Nooo, I like these ones. They’ll fit. I must’ve washed them too warm or something.”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow, “Jimin-ah,” he says, putting Jimin’s bigger jeans on his bed as he walks back over to him. He comes up behind him again, settling his hands over Jimin’s wider hips this time. “I don’t think that’s why you’re having issues.”

Jimin cranes his head around to glare, kittenish, at him, “What do you mean?”

From his tone, Yoongi thinks Jimin understands full well what he’s saying. But Yoongi’s never seen the point in not acknowledging Jimin’s weight, same as he’s always refused to entertain the idea that it’s even remotely a bad thing.

Yoongi’s hands drift back over the crest of Jimin’s belly. Almost inadvertently, Jimin leans back against him, encouraging his movements. Yoongi feels a surge of fondness.

“I think you’ve put on a bit of weight since you last wore these,” Yoongi says neutrally, giving Jimin’s pouty lips a kiss.

Jimin accepts the kiss as his cheeks turn pink. Even so, he shakes his head, “No, I’ve worn these after the summer. They...well, maybe they were a little tight, but they fit. I wore them when you showed me your campus for the first time.”

Yoongi’s eyes flit down to Jimin’s belly, looking heavier and fatter than ever under his skinny hands. He gives it a squeeze and despite the situation, Jimin still makes a little pleased sound. He loves attention, in any form, and now that he really believes Yoongi thinks he’s drop dead gorgeous, he rarely complains when Yoongi gets handsy with his chubby bits.

“I know,” Yoongi says, because he does; he recognizes these jeans, and he also recalls that they were a little too small that day, too. But Jimin had been a little smaller as well, and he had obviously gotten them on.

Now Jimin lifts his head up a little more, eyes widening, “You...you think I’ve put on more weight since then?”

“Yeah, a bit,” Yoongi says honestly.

Jimin’s pout intensifies. He wiggles away from Yoongi’s hands, which had been stroking over the sensitive skin of his clothed lower belly the way Jimin likes so much.

“They’ll fit,” Jimin insists stubbornly, cheeks red.

Yoongi sighs. “You don’t even want to try these jeans?” He gestures to the neatly folded pair on his bed.

“I like these,” Jimin repeats, trying in vain to button them again. His breathing is coming a bit rougher now from all his hopping and wriggling.

Maybe Yoongi should just let him struggle, so he’ll be forced into his roomier pair, but he’s nothing if not indulgent towards Jimin.

“C’mere, then, let me try,” Yoongi says, pulling Jimin back towards him. Jimin allows it, releasing the flaps and exhaling with a huff. His belly rounds back out, and the top of his waistband disappears beneath it.

Yoongi gets on his knees, but maybe this wasn’t the best idea, because he’s really just so fucking weak for Jimin. One of his hands slip to Jimin’s hip and the other thumbs at the lower curve of his belly, where it laps over his waistband. Yoongi leans in and presses a kiss to his clothed tummy.

Jimin giggles above him, though, so maybe the momentary distraction is worth it.

Yoongi slips his hands under the thin tee, rucking it up so he can get underneath. Jimin’s skin is soft and smooth, except for the pink and red indents of stretch marks along his belly, hips and thighs. He knows Jimin thinks they’re unsightly, but he thinks they’re cute. Jimin’s tendency towards indulgence has never bothered him. He gives one of the marks low on Jimin’s tummy a tender kiss.

When Yoongi doesn’t show any signs of getting back on track, Jimin whines, “Hyuuuung, you said you were gonna help. We’re just-” Jimin squirms under his lips, “We’re just gonna get distracted at this rate.”

Yoongi’s torn. He’d rather continue to run his tongue over the swells of Jimin’s body than help him stuff himself into jeans he has no business being in.

But in the end he obeys and pulls Jimin’s shirt back down. He takes the flaps in his hands, and being faced with the stubborn pudge separating them, he’s suddenly skeptical that he’ll be able to get them done up, either. Neither of them are exactly strong; Jimin’s all soft chub and Yoongi’s about as scrawny as they come.

Still, if Jimin insists on wearing them, he’s definitely going to _try_. 

“Suck in, Jiminie,” Yoongi says, giving his belly a pat that makes it jiggle. Jimin’s pink, probably from the whole situation, but he obeys and takes a deep inhale.

His tummy recedes off the waistband and Yoongi hurriedly tries to bring the sides together. His knuckles brush Jimin’s quivering pudge, his underused stomach muscles doing their best, but Yoongi doesn’t let himself get distracted. He manhandles Jimin, pulling the ends as tight as he can manage and trying to shove the button through the hole.

It leaves his fingers feeling a little raw from the rough friction of the denim, but somehow after a few tries, he manages to do the job. He yanks the zipper up, and is pleasantly surprised when it obeys. Jimin exhales heavily, panting from holding his breath so long. The dough of his tummy swells over the tight waistband.

But Jimin’s grinning, “Oh! Hyung, you got it!”

Jimin doesn’t spare his reflection a glance as he gathers his button-up and shrugs it on. Yoongi knows Jimin bought it just for this occasion, so it’s no surprise when it buttons easily over the dome of his belly.

He leaves it untucked which is his saving grace; it drapes over and hides the band of fat his tummy and love handles make, forced to be rounder and bigger than usual by his tight waistband. It’s not like he looks _small_ , but it’s definitely passable.

Beyond passable, in Yoongi’s opinion. He thinks Jimin looks great, but that’s not unusual.

Jimin surveys himself then, and he smiles. He musses with his hair a little. Then he glances down at his belly, hesitates, and pouts. It’s not a very serious pout; Yoongi knows the difference.

“Maybe I’ve put on a little weight. Maybe like, two or three kilos,” Jimin says, putting a hand on the crest of his belly.

“Mm,” Yoongi says, sitting on the bed. He’s not sure he’d even notice two or three kilos on Jimin. It’s probably more like five or seven.

Jimin chews his lip, pout becoming a little more real, “Because I’m sure I’m not 100 kilos yet.”

“More than three kilos would’ve put you there?” Jimin never had told Yoongi what he weighed _exactly_ ; he had only said he wanted to get back down below 90 and that was the last Yoongi heard in terms of real numbers.

Jimin’s eyes are vulnerable as he plods over to where Yoongi’s sitting on the bed, his legs hanging off the sides. Yoongi widens his legs when Jimin approaches, and he easily steps in between. His hands come to Jimin’s hips and Jimin sighs.

“I was around 96 after summer,” Jimin admits. Yoongi’s rubbing soothing circles in Jimin’s sides.

Yoong hums, “Even if you were over 100 kilos, Jiminie, that would be okay.”

Jimin bites his lip, “That’s really heavy, hyung.”

Yoongi has to fight from rolling his eyes because it’s not like 96 kilos is all that far from 100, and also, well. It’s _heavy_ , but it’s not _that_ heavy. It’s a lot heavier than his own weight of 65-ish kilos, but still, that’s how he honestly feels. Jimin’s big, but not so big that it stops him from doing anything he wants to. Yeah, he gets a little out of breath after a few too many stairs and yeah, some of his clothes are getting a little tight. He can be a little clumsy, bumping into counters with his wide hips or knocking things off tables with his belly. But he can still walk around the park with Yoongi on a sunny afternoon, he still endures PE classes in high school, he still fits fine in most chairs and desks. His friends and family love and support him. 

So if it’s really just about looks, Yoongi doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get how Jimin can look in the mirror and be displeased with what he sees.

Jimin’s been getting better about body image, though, and Yoongi’s not about to get disheartened by Jimin’s first bout of insecurity in nearly a month.

“It’s not too heavy,” Yoongi says softly. A hand drifts from Jimin’s chunky hips to his belly, well disguised but still looking a little puffier than usual. He gets his hand underneath it and gives it a little lift, feeling the heft. Yoongi can definitely tell that way that he’s heavier.

Jimin whines, arching into the touch. His cheeks are still flushed, but not just with embarrassment anymore. His pupils are big and he’s biting his lip. For as self-conscious as Jimin gets about his tummy, it seems like talking about it and touching it can get him a little worked up.

“What...what would be too heavy?” Jimin asks, voice laced with uncertainty, even as Yoongi slips his hands under Jimin’s button up and undershirt to knead his soft pudge. God, he’s gotten so soft. Yoongi used to think he was impossibly soft, but now? Yoongi could do this forever.

“500,” Yoongi says.

Jimin’s eyes go wide at the sound of a huge number, then his brows knit, “Pounds?”

“No, kilos.”

Jimin snorts then, swatting Yoongi on the shoulder. “I’m being serious, hyung.”

“So am I,” Yoongi says, “There’s no weight limit on my love for you, Jimin.”

Jimin opens his mouth and closes it, blinks a few times, and swallows.

There’s a few more moments of silence, and Yoongi patiently waits for his words to settle over Jimin.

“You should get dressed,” Jimin finally says. Yoongi can see the little smile etched onto his face as he steps out of Yoongi’s legs and offers a hand to get him up. Yoongi takes it, and is surprised but beyond pleased when Jimin pulls him into a well-padded hug.

“I love you, hyung,” Jimin says softly into his ear.

Yoongi smiles, “I love you too, Jiminie.”

_

They’re a little late anyways, and the party is already fully underway by the time they arrive.

His classmate’s house is big; big enough that the kitchen is fully stocked with snacks and drinks, and there’s a whole room that furniture’s been pushed against the walls to make a dance floor. It’s a bigger party than Yoongi had anticipated, but that’s fine by him. It’ll be even easier to slip out when they feel like it.

They find Yoongi’s friends first. A loud, “Jimin-ah!” cuts through the music, and soon Jimin is being pulled into a firm hug from Seokjin, Namjoon and Hoseok following at his heels with drinks in their hands.

Jimin hasn’t met his friends so many times that Yoongi would think a hug is entirely appropriate, but Jimin and Seokjin are very different people than him. Jimin’s glowing from the attention, at how obviously happy Seokjin is to see him, and Seokjin is notoriously doting towards any and all dongsaengs.

“Hi, Seokjin-hyung,” Jimin says, giggling as Seokjin pulls away, only to hold him at arm’s length.

“Aish, I swear, Jimin-ah, you get cuter every time I see you,” Seokjin says, “Are you sure Yoongi’s not threatening you or something? Blink twice if you’re being blackmailed into dating him.”

It gets hearty laughs. Yoongi rolls his eyes, “Ha ha. Good one.”

Jimin turns to him, eyes soft. He takes one of Yoongi’s hands and says, “He takes very good care of me.”

Now Yoongi’s flustering, not really expecting such sudden earnestness.

“Ahh, look at Yoongi blush!” Hoseok ribs immediately, stepping closer to give Yoongi’s cheek a pinch, “Cute!”

Yoongi slaps him away, “Fuck off.”

Namjoon puts a hand on Jimin’s shoulder, “You’ve turned him into such a romantic,” Namjoon tells him, “He’s never talked about anyone like he talks about you.”

Yoongi groans but Jimin looks so pleased that he can’t really be upset. If anything, he secretly appreciates his friends reinforcing what he tells Jimin all the time: he’s whipped.

They chat for a while, before wandering into the kitchen to get Yoongi and Jimin drinks. Jimin texts Jungkook and Taehyung, too, and doesn’t get an answer.

“I wonder if they got lost?” Jimin worries, eyebrows knit.

“Who, your friends?” Namjoon asks, remembering that they were coming as well. Jimin nods.

Hoseok snaps his fingers, “Oh, I think I know. They’re the muscle-y kid and the artsy one with big eyes?”

Jimin smiles, “Jungkook and Taehyung, yeah.”

“I saw them just before you guys got here, tearing up the dancefloor,” Hoseok’s smiling wide, “They’re pretty good, I was gonna join them before you got here.”

Jimin looks relieved, “I’m gonna go find them,” he tells Yoongi.

“Let’s all go!” Seokjin announces boisterously, “To the dance floor!”

They find them easily; as Hoseok said, they seemed to be having a pretty good time.

Introductions are hurried and sloppy in the middle of the dance floor, but soon it’s all but forgotten that some of them are just acquaintances and they’re all just dancing and enjoying the music and atmosphere.

Yoongi’s never really danced with Jimin before. Jimin has mentioned that he used to take dance when he was younger, and that he had been pretty good. It’s not like Yoongi didn’t believe him, but Yoongi’s never actually seen him dance. Yoongi would have worried that Jimin would be too shy or self-conscious to have fun and let go, but he’s thrilled to find that’s not the case.

His hips sway to the rhythm and there’s a grace and fluidity to his movements that Yoongi wouldn’t have expected with how clumsy he usually is. He looks comfortable and relaxed. It’s more than Yoongi can say. He’s not much of a dancer himself, and feels stiff in comparison.

Maybe it’s the alcohol, or the music, or just _Jimin_ , but Yoongi can’t look away from him. He’s radiant. And so very annoyingly, ridiculously hot.

He is all those things, but he’s also pretty out of shape. It doesn’t take him too long to get red-faced and a little sweaty. Luckily Jimin’s friends had already been out on the floor a while, and were happy to leave to find a quieter area with Jimin and Yoongi, as his own friends stayed on the floor a little longer.

Yoongi’s long finished his beer by the time they leave the dance floor, but he drove himself and Jimin so he just nurses a soda after that. Jimin has no such reservations and they go to the kitchen for the boys to get another round.

But, Jimin can’t get too close to good looking food without getting interested. He’s sipping a new drink as he wanders to a table full of party snacks. Then Jungkook’s interested too, and they both start making plates loaded with everything from fish cake balls to fried chicken, not missing the frosting-heavy cupcakes at the end of the table.

He knows from Jimin that Jungkook’s been bulking lately, which he can tell just by looking at the kid, but Jimin’s got no such excuse. Not that he needs one as far as Yoongi’s concerned.

They find an unoccupied sofa, and soon Yoongi’s friends are back. Hoseok perches on the sofa arm next to Jungkook and they start chittering about exercise routines, as Seokjin compliments Taehyung’s sneakers and Namjoon chimes in and they start talking about fashion. Yoongi glances over at Jimin who glances back and smiles wide. He knows he’s thinking the same thing Yoongi is; it’s nice to see how easily the two groups are getting along.

The night progresses. Jimin makes another trip to the snack bar, this time with Taehyung. He comes back with another drink, too.

The mood only gets more jovial as the level of intoxication across the group increases. They chat and laugh, Jimin munches through another plate, then they decide to dance again.

Jimin’s movements are a little more subdued this time, and Yoongi suspects his pants are painfully tight, especially now that he’s put away a few plates of food. Still, his cheeks are flushed and his eyes are glassy. He sways to the music and he looks far too happy for Yoongi to question him.

It’s around 1:30 when Jimin dazedly leans into him. Yoongi locks his legs and tries not to stagger. Jimin’s gotten pretty heavy.

“I’m getting tired, hyung,” he says.

Yoongi reaches up to brush his hair out of his face, “Let’s get going, then.”

Jimin nods. They announce their departure to their friends (Taehyung and Jungkook leave then, too, but Yoongi’s friends are staying a little longer) and wander out of the house to Yoongi’s car. Jimin’s usually a little lighter on his feet than the lumbering gait he’s sporting as they make their way. It’s probably from both the alcohol and his stupidly tight pants.

Sure enough, when Jimin flops into the passenger side, the first thing he does is suck his tummy in as best he can, lean back, and fumble around under his belly at the button until it comes undone. Maybe the alcohol’s making him particularly shameless, but he sighs loudly in relief, ignoring how his belly pushes out further into his lap.

Yoongi smiles and reaches over to give Jimin’s hip a rub before starting the car. Jimin looks at him with big, glassy eyes.

“I really can’t believe you wore those all night,” Yoongi comments, hand drifting lower so he can thumb at his waistband below the pudge of his love handles. Even with the jeans now unbuttoned, Yoongi can barely wiggle a finger in.

“They’re _so_ tight,” he complains, squirming, “I thought they’d loosen up or something after I was in them for a while, but-” Jimin hesitates, before huffing and muttering, “They’re too small.”

Yoongi chuckles, shifting gears and pulling out of the driveway. “You admit it, then?” he says.

He sees Jimin pout at him out of the corner of his eye as he pulls onto the road.

“ _Yes_ ,” Jimin says, still pouty, “I’ve...put on some relationship weight, I guess.”

Yoongi hums, “There’s nothing wrong with that.” Yoongi reaches for Jimin’s hand and threads their fingers together. He sees Jimin smile.

Comfortable silence settles over them. They’re only a few minutes from Yoongi’s place when Jimin says, “Can we get ice cream?”

Yoongi looks at the clock, reading 2 am. “It’s a little late, Jiminie. I don’t think any ice cream shops are open.”

Jimin bites his lip, “No, but the 24-hour super markets are.”

Yoongi barks a laugh. “Alright, fine.” As if he’d ever _not_ give Jimin whatever he asked for.

There’s one by his place, which is surely what Jimin had in mind. He pulls in the lot and starts unbuckling, stopping Jimin when he starts to do the same.

“Just tell me what flavor you want. I’ll be fast,” Yoongi says.

“You want me to just wait here?”

“You’ll just slow me down.”

Jimin pouts, “Because I’m fat?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, but he feels an amused smile fighting to break free, “ _No_ , because you’re drunk, and you’ll want to go through every isle and we’ll leave with a cart full of junk food because that’s what you crave whenever you’ve been drinking.” Not to mention that he’d eaten a few platefuls already at the party.

Jimin narrows his eyes, “That sounds like it _is_ because I’m fat.”

“Jimin,” Yoongi groans, “Please, I love you and I will buy you whatever the hell you want, but I’d really like to be in bed sometime soon and that won’t happen if I let you come in with me.”

Just like that, Jimin’s giggling, “Okay, okay. Something with peanut butter. Or maybe something minty.”

Yoongi shakes his head, laughing. He leans over the center console the way Jimin historically can’t really manage because his belly’s too in the way and gives him a kiss on the cheek.

“I’ll be right back,” he says.

The fluorescent lights of the store are a lot to handle at 2 am, but the isles are empty so it doesn’t take long for him to accomplish his task.

A pint of peanut butter cup fudge swirl and a pint of mint chocolate chip. Purchased through the self checkout because, well. Any random human interaction, especially at this hour, Yoongi really prefers to avoid.

Yoongi approaches his car, dark on the inside except for the blue glow of Jimin’s phone lighting up his face. His double chin pooches out and his eyes look heavy.

Yoongi slips back into his car, handing Jimin the bag to keep at his feet as Yoongi’s driving. Jimin peeks inside and gives a pleased hum.

Jimin rests a pudgy hand on Yoongi’s thigh the rest of the way back to Yoongi’s place.

Yoongi heads to the bathroom to get ready for bed as soon as they get back, and as he’s coming out of the bathroom, he’s treated to Jimin, plopped on the couch with both pints of ice cream out. He’s already wiggled out of his pants (Yoongi’s sad he missed that show) and removed his button up, leaving him in a snug white undershirt and his boxer briefs. His lower belly, swollen and round from a few month’s worth of extra indulgences, pokes out of the bottom. Yoongi can see the pink stretch marks decorating the curve from here.

Yoongi wishes he’d come to bed, though, if for no other reason than Jimin looks infinitely more snuggly than his actual bed.

As Yoongi’s contemplating, Jimin drops a glob of chocolatey-peanut butter onto his shirt. He groans and Yoongi chuckles.

Yoongi walks over and gently takes the spoon and ice cream from Jimin’s hands, putting them on the coffee table. His brows are furrowed until Yoongi reaches for his hem and says, “Here. Let me.”

Jimin pinkens and raises his arms. Yoongi takes his shirt off as carefully as he can so the stain doesn’t worsen. It’s easier said than done with how the sleeves cling to the chubby roundness of his upper arms.

Jimin is exposed now; his plump and rounded chest, the pudgy crease between there and his upper arms, the rolls at his sides and the heavenly soft spread of his belly. He’s got stretch marks that halo his belly button that are beginning to pale, and a few lower down on his belly. And, while Yoongi can’t see them now, he knows there’s a few on the undersides of his soft arms and on the inside of his thighs, too. Jimin finally starts to squirm under Yoongi’s intense gaze. Yoongi meets his eyes and sees a demure, embarrassed but certainly not displeased look in his eye.

Yoongi smiles. He puts a knee on the sofa cushion next to Jimin so he can lean in and give him a kiss. He rests his palm possessively over the mound of Jimin’s tummy, resting on his plush thighs.

They kiss for a few moments, and then Yoongi starts getting the impression he doesn’t have Jimin’s full attention. He pulls back, and Jimin’s eyes flicker to the ice cream on the table.

Yoongi snorts and rolls his eyes. Jimin bites his lip and giggles, still a little too drunk to be really abashed.

“Finish your ice cream and then come to bed, okay, Jiminie? Hyung will freeze without his space heater,” he says, coupling his words with a squeeze of Jimin’s belly.

Jimin giggles again and now he rolls his eyes. “I’ll be right there, hyung.”

Yoongi gets up, and hands Jimin his pint back. Jimin grins appreciatively, but grabs Yoongi’s hand with his free one before Yoongi can walk away.

“Love you, hyung.”

Yoongi feels his face soften. He raises Jimin’s hand to his lips, gives his knuckles a kiss and says, “Love you, too, Jiminie.”

**Author's Note:**

> Highly appreciative of kudos and comments as always~
> 
> Follow me on [ tumblr ](https://akranes-jlc.tumblr.com)!


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